Something Unexpected
by B0rnlucky
Summary: Dumbledore thought he had everything planned out for Harry, that is until something he didn't expect happened. Rather than the meek and subdued child he was hoping for he'll have to deal with the confidant young man that Harry has become in a few short year's. The path won't be easy for Harry though, the path of a dhampir is not taken lightly.


**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter though I wish I did. Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling. The only things I'll claim are my original characters and plot points. Please read and review.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Something Unexpected This Way Comes**

Vincent always loved walking around at night. Most of the time he would just pick a direction and start walking, the destination was never important. The journey was all that mattered. Most nights were quiet and peaceful allowing him time to think, some nights he might meet someone interesting and spend the entire time in deep conversation, and sometimes there would even be a little excitement.

Tonight, however was one of those quiet nights. Tonight, he was walking down a street in Little Whinging. It didn't matter to Vincent that he had spent thousands of nights walking empty streets, he always enjoyed them.

"Shut up you Freak!" Vincent paused as he listened to the yelling. The shouting was much too muted for any normal person to hear, but Vincent was anything but normal. He strained his ears and honed in on the sound.

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon." A child cried.

"To right you are you freak! After everything I've done for you after all I've sacrificed!" Vincent heard the sound of something hard striking flesh. A plaintive mewl was heard as the child gasped for breath.

Vincent froze.

He was no stranger to the world. He knew that there were bad families out there and that what he was hearing was more common than should be appropriate, but that didn't mean he had to like it. With a growl he homed in on the house that the sound was coming from.

As he approached the property he paused. Blood Wards. The house and surrounding property were protected by Darkness Damned Blood Wards. Even though he could still hear the sounds of abuse coming from the house he took a few moments to examine the wards on the house. Any sane vampire always gave any form of Blood Magic a healthy amount of respect. He was impressed in the strength of the wards, whoever had cast them had been very powerful, but they had one fatal flaw. They were intent based. Anyone that had walked the Earth as long as he had, knew how to get around intent based magic. All it took was a little creative thinking. So long as he didn't intent to harm anyone within the home, the wards would not trigger.

Vincent stepped across the property line and up to the front of the house and shoved his foot forward, the fact that the front door just happened to be in the path of his foot as it traveled was immaterial to him.

In the foyer of the house stood a large purple faced man with a mustache in very much need of a good trimming. Next to the man stood, what had to be in his opinion, the most plain-faced woman on the planet. Across from the two adults stood what had to be the Mr. Purple's progeny. A large ham fisted lump of a boy.

What drew Vincent in however was small child on the floor between the two males. He looked to be no older that six or seven. He was curled up into a ball and was whimpering on ground. He had messy black hair and was wearing a set of rags that looked to be ten sizes too large for the small boy. The smell of blood permeated the air. Mostly new but enough old blood to tell him that this had been a regular occurrence in this household.

"Who the BLOODY HELL ARE YOU!" the purple faced man roared.

Before answering Vincent clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm and drew a bit of his blood. He spun around and with a few whispered words he smeared a trail of blood around the frame of the door. The incantation he used was simple, no one outside the house would be able to hear or see anything that when on inside. With that done Vincent turned back to the family.

"My name is Vincent. Just Vincent. Please sit down. I'll be with you in a moment." Vincent smiled and allowed his fangs to show at the large fat man and his wife he unleashed a bit of the animal inside and allowed his eye's to change from their normal honey brown to dark red.

The blood rushed from the man's face as he and his wife gasped. The woman fell over in dead faint.

"Pentunia!" The man reached over and grabbed his wife guided her over to the sofa and laid her down.

Vincent approached the young lad on the floor and knelt down. "Are you alright lad?" he asked softly. Vincent rained in the beast as the young child looked up at him.

"It hurts." the boy wheezed. Vincent could see the pain in to emerald orbs and nodded in understanding. Vincent was no stranger to pain.

"I know. Do you think you can sit up for me?" Vincent asked.

The boy nodded and slowly uncurled himself. Vincent smiled as the boy stood up on his own and sat down on the chair opposite man and his wife.

The man looked about ready to scream at the boy again but Vincent stood and turned to face him again. "I'd be quiet and if I were you." He hissed.

The man gulped and nodded, the rolls around his neck wobbled with the movement.

Vincent turned back to the boy, "Tell me child what was the cause of all this."

The child hesitated.

"I promise you child, whatever it is you did. You did not deserve the punishment you received. I know you don't believe me but it's true. Tell me what happened. I won't let them hurt you."

"I . . . I brought home my term scores." He said softly.

"And did you do poorly?" Vincent asked.

"No!" The boy's eyes lit up in defiance.

"Really? Then what were your scores?" Vincent asked.

"I can't show you. Uncle Vernon threw my report into the fire." He said.

"Do you remember what they were? If you tell me the truth, I'll believe you."

"No." the boy said sadly. "But I was eighth in my class." He said quickly.

Vincent smiled. "That's very good." Whatever this boy had been through it clearly hadn't broken him, not yet anyway. That was good. Vincent always had use for people with drive. "What's your name?"

"Harry, sir. Harry Potter."

Vincent froze. It couldn't be. Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. Here in this house? With these people? How in the name of Darkness had the Prince of the Wizarding World come to live here? This boy should be living the life of luxury surrounded by those who cared about him. The Blood Wards certainly made more sense now. There might be four or five people, excluding himself, in all of England capable of casting those Blood Wards and none of them were to be taken lightly, but if he were to consider that this is Harry Potter then that number dropped to one. Albus Dumbledore. A very accomplished and very powerful wizard. While Dumbledore had never before bothered with the affairs of vampire's before it did make Vincent a little uneasy.

With this new information Vincent looked at Harry once again. Things that he had glossed over before were now examined in exacting detail. He looked at everything. The boy's unruly hair, the lightning shaped scar on the child's forehead. The numerous other scars that covered the boy's arms and hands. The oversized and torn clothes. The broken glasses. The cut and bleeding lip.

Vincent had always made it a point to not interfere with the affairs of wizards, it was heathier not to, but he could never abandon a child in need, and this child certainly needed help. A monster he may be but he was a monster with morals danm it!

Vincent knelt down in front of the boy. "Harry, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you think about it before you answer. Do you want to leave this place?"

Harry's eye's widened. "Where . . . where would I go?" he asked.

"That'd be completely up to you, Harry. I'd take you wherever you want. I swear it on my Blood. I'd do everything in my power to see you away from this place."

Harry thought for a moment, "But who would take me? I don't have any family. My Aunt and Uncle are all I have."

Vincent smiled. "Allow me to share with you a piece of wisdom Harry. Despite common belief you can in fact choose your family. I did. Once long ago, I was in a similar situation as you are now and a man made the same offer to me as I am making to you now. He took me in. He taught me. Raised me as his son. I made a choice to allow that man to be my Father. I know it's a hard decision. I know it's scary, but I also know this." He turned and glared back at Vernon who was still sitting on the couch. The blood had come back to his face and Vincent could see the man's anger growing again. "Family doesn't treat you like this piece of swine obviously does." He growled.

Harry was silent.

"He won't be going anywhere with you!" Vernon roared.

"SILENCE!" Vincent snapped right back. The walls rattled and the couch slid back with the power of his command. Vincent allowed a trickle of his power to seep into his voice. He wormed his way into the man's mind and subverted his will. Vernon's voice died in his throat. He had no choice but to obey.

Normally such a subversion of will would be seen as an attack. Which would have triggered the Blood Wards around the house, but with a little mental finessing, Vincent didn't view it as an attack, in fact he believed it to be quite the opposite. Simply put Vincent was trying to save Vernon's life, if Vernon opened his mouth one more time he would die. After all, if Vernon were to speak the dagger at Vincent's hip would be thrown at high speeds out the window behind the couch Vernon currently sat in. The fact that Vernon would be in the path of that dagger on its way out into the yard was inconsequential.

Vincent turned back around and looked back a Harry who was staring at him with wide eye's. "Sorry about that."

"What was that?" Harry asked wide eyed.

"Just a little trick I picked up from the man who raised me." Vincent said.

"Could you show me how to do that?" Harry asked.

"Possibly," Vincent admitted, "if you've got the skill for it, but first you'd have to learn when to use it."

"I'd like that." Harry admitted.

"So have you decided?" Vincent asked.

"I want to leave this place, but where would I go?" Harry asked.

"Well, you could come with me if you want. If you do, it'll be my responsibility to take care of you. I'll give you food and clothes. I'd teach you. I'd even tell you about your parents if you want. I swear on my Blood I'll protect you." Vincent said.

Harry frowned. "My parents died in a car crash. They were drunk."

Vincent smiled at Harry, "Is that what happened, or is that what you were told happened?"

Harry's eye's widened in surprise. "I . . . I don't know." He admitted.

"And that Harry." Vincent grinned, "is wisest thing you've said all night. Admitting when you don't know something is the first step to the path to knowledge."

* * *

Seven months later Albus Dumbledore sat in his office. It had been good year and the end of term feast had wrapped up pleasantly, and the students were already on their way home. Suddenly one of the many devices on his wall sounded shrilly before going silent. Albus paled.

He knew that device well. It was the one he'd enchanted to let him know the status of the Wards around Harry's relative's house. In the eight years since he'd made it, it'd never once made a peep, but now it could mean only one thing. The wards had failed.

Albus ran to his fire place and snatched a handful of Floo powder, "Little Whinging, Arabella Figg Residence." He said and stuck his head into the fire.

"Arabella!" He called out.

"Albus?" the old woman answered. "What's going on?"

Albus didn't have time to answer, "I need to come through, something's happened."

"Alright come on then." The old squib replied.

Albus stepped through the fire and quickly made his way to the front door.

"Albus what's going on?" Ms. Figg asked.

Albus stopped and looked at her. "I need to get to Harry's. The Blood Wards have fallen." Albus said.

The color drained from Arabella's face. "I'll get my coat. Change your clothes, we'll draw less attention."

The two quickly made their way out of the house and down the street to the Dursley's at number 4 Private Dr. It soon became apparent that something had happened. There was a large mover's van parked in the driveway and a number of men were carrying boxes and furniture out of the house Albus watched in silence as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong.

"Arabella?" a voice called out Dumbledore turned and looked over at another woman that had stepped out of her front door.

"Hello dearie, what's going on?" Arabella asked.

"Who's that with you?" The woman asked.

"Oh this is my cousin Albus. What happened with the Dursley's?" Arabella lied, which Albus was very grateful for. This was the best chance for him to learn what had happened.

"You mean you haven't heard?" the woman gushed. "The Dursley's were arrested."

Albus' eyes widened in surprise. "What'd they do?" he asked.

"Oh it was very hush hush. You know their nephew? The one you would sit from time to time? Well apparently they've been abusing him. Some Lord or something was walking the street one night and heard the whole thing. He kicked in the front door and took the poor lad to the hospital. The Dursley's were arrested that same night. Apparently, the Lord kept everything out of the paper's until this morning, when they announced the Dursley's would be spending the next ten years in prison or so. The Courts ceased everything the Dursley's had and gave it to their nephew." The woman purred. Albus had met the type before. She obviously thrived on gossip.

"My word. That poor child. What happened to him?" Albus asked.

"Well that's just it. The Lord adopted him and they moved out of London. No one knows where. Apparently, the Lord wanted to keep everything private. He even managed to get the records completely wiped. The only reason I know is I heard one of the bobbies that was in the court room talking about it this morning."

Albus paled. If what the woman was saying were true than Harry had just moved well beyond his reach. There were many things magic was capable of but restoring deleted records was not one of them, and even if he did manage to find out where Harry had been taken there was no way he could modify enough memories to bring him back and put him with the Dursley's. What bothered him most was what would Minerva say when she found out she was right all those years ago.

* * *

Harry looked around in awe. The room he was standing in was larger than his Aunt's and Uncle's entire house, and this was simply the foyer of the mansion he would be living in. Seven months ago, Mr. Vincent, or Lord Vincent, had come into his relative's house and changed his entire life around. That first night Vincent had taken Harry to the local hospital. Shortly after his Aunt and Uncle had been arrested. Harry had spent almost six weeks in that hospital being treated for several broken ribs, a ruptured appendix, and malnourishment. It had taken a few months for the investigation and trial of his Aunt and Uncle to come to a close, and another several weeks before Vincent had been granted guardianship of Harry. They had finished the paperwork this morning and now Harry was standing in what was to be his new home.

"Welcome to the Manor Mr. Potter."

An elderly gentleman was standing at the base of the main staircase. Like all of Vincent's employee's this man was, despite his age, large and very fit. He had a nasty scar run down the right side of his face and wore and eyepatch on that side. Harry felt out of place in his t-shirt and jeans next to the sharp tailored suit the man was wearing.

"Hello sir." Harry said softly.

The man smiled. "My name is Bruce Fairchild. You may call me Mr. Bruce. I am Lord Vincent's House Steward. Lord Vincent wanted me to apologize on his behalf. He wished he could greet you in person, but for personal reasons he is unavailable until later this evening, when he will speak to you." Mr. Bruce gave a slight bow.

"Uh, thank you sir." Harry said bowing back.

"Oh no Mr. Potter you do not bow to me." Mr. Bruce chided.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Harry said quickly standing up.

"Do not to worry Mr. Potter." Mr. Bruce smiled. "I will be instructing you on the finer points of etiquette, along with the rest of your subjects in the future."

"I won't be going to school?" Harry asked confused.

"You will eventually Mr. Potter, Lord Vincent will speak to you about that later tonight I understand, I also understand that Lord Vincent wishes to speak with you about your parent's tonight. However, before then he tasked me with showing you the rest of the Manor, and getting you settled in."

Harry's eye's widened, for months he had been wanting to ask Vincent about his parents, but with everything that had been happening he'd never had the chance to. Truth told aside from those first few day's he hadn't seen the man except for the late-night meal or phone call. He'd gotten so wrapped up in getting away from his Aunt and Uncle that to be honest he'd completely forgotten about it.

The rest of the day soon passed. During that time Mr. Bruce had taken Harry on a tour of the grounds. The mansion was massive, and the grounds had been equally impressive, but all Harry could think about was finally learning what Vincent knew about his parents. Eventually the sun had gone down and Harry was now sitting in Lord Vincent's office. A massive and ornate oak desk stood in the center of the room. To one side was a sitting area around a stone fireplace. Harry sat in one of the comfortable chairs waiting for Vincent.

"Harry, how are you liking your new home?" Vincent asked.

Harry froze.

Home. It was such a simple word, but for his six-year-old self it meant so much more. Harry realized that he'd never had a home before. Sure, he'd lived with his Aunt and Uncle, but he'd never been home before. Over the day, Mr. Bruce had shown more kindness and care than his relatives had ever done, and it was Vincent's question that made him realize this house and these people where now his home and family. Harry felt the tears start to fall from his eye's. He couldn't help it. He rushed forward and wrapped Vincent in a hug.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Vincent couldn't help but smile at the display of affection. Over the past few months he'd been fighting with himself over his decision to take Harry Potter in, but after hearing the sincerity in Harry's voice, he knew that he'd made the right decision.

"It's alright Harry."

They stayed like that for a few moments before they sat back down again. Vincent could tell Harry wanted to ask him something but was too shy to do so. Vincent smiled and made a mental note for Bruce to work on the child's confidence.

"Harry, I need to tell you something." Vincent said. "Before I do however I need you to promise me that you listen to everything I say and that you won't jump to conclusions before I'm finished. Can you do that for me?" Vincent asked.

Harry looked at him very hard for a moment, "Are you going to tell me about my parent's now?" he asked.

Vincent nodded, "That's a part of what I'm about to say yes." He admitted.

"Then I'll listen." Harry replied.

Vincent smiled. "The first thing you need to understand Harry is that magic is real, and that you Harry are a wizard."

Harry's eye's widened, "I'm a what?"

"A wizard," Vincent repeated. "and unless I miss my guess a very powerful wizard at that." Vincent leaned forward. "You see Harry, back in the late 17th century the wizarding world passed what is today called the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Eventually you'll learn why the statute was passed but that's not important to this conversation, what is important is that because of this law there exists a whole world hidden from view. The world of magic. You're a part of that world. You have been since birth."

Vincent watched as Harry worked his way through the logic. "If what you're saying is true Vincent, does that mean my parents were wizards?"

"Your father was. Your mother was a witch." Vincent admitted.

Harry leaned back in shock. "That's not . . . that's impossible. I can't be a wizard." He whispered.

"Is it so hard to believe Harry?" Vincent asked. "Tell me have you ever done something that you couldn't explain, maybe when you were scared or angry?"

Harry sat thinking for a moment. "Well before I started this term my Aunt Petunia tried to cut my hair, but she did a really poor job. I was so scarred that I'd be made fun of, but when I woke up the next day my hair was right back to normal. My uncle locked me in the cupboard for two days because of that."

Vincent nodded. "That was what is known as accidental magic, Harry. Young wizards and witches can't control their magic very well so sometimes it leaks out and does something unexpected. Sounds to me that you were so anxious about being made fun of that your magic made your hair grow back. Most first-born children experience something similar."

"First-born?" Harry asked.

"A first-born is a witch or wizard that doesn't have magical parents. It's rare but it sometimes happens. You are not first-born Harry, because your parents were magical. From what I've learned your Aunt and Uncle were trying to stomp the magic out of you. Which is why they treated you so poorly. Your mother, Lily, was a first-born, but your father, James, was the heir to an Ancient House of magic. Your father's family, the Potter's have an obscure bloodline, but it is believed that they are descendant of the Pevrelle family which is very old. As James' and Lily's son you are heir to both the Pevrelle and Potter lines, although for some reason you family has never claimed the Pevrelle name." Vincent explained.

"How do you know all this?" harry asked.

Vincent smiled, "Let us assume for a moment that I haven't lied to you Harry, and that magic is real. If magic is real, then wouldn't that also mean that there are any number of magical creatures that also exist?"

"I guess so."

"Can you think of any?" Vincent asked.

"Well, dragons but they can't possibly . . ." Harry trailed off.

Vincent smiled, "Saint George is currently the only muggle in recorded history to have slain a dragon single handedly."

"Dragons are real?" Harry asked.

"Yes they are. I've had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting one face to face. Trust me the fire is not something to be taken lightly. What else can you think of?"

"Goblins, Orc's, Elves." Harry rattled off.

"Orc's are a product of fiction I'm afraid, but goblins and elves are very real. Although, they are very different then what Tolkien presented. What else?"

"Ghosts?"

"Yes."

"Ghouls?"

"Yes."

"Gnomes?"

"Yes."

"Mermaids?"

"Yes, but they're quite ugly."

"Vampires?"

"You're talking to one."

Harry stopped.

He'd heard the words but couldn't quite believe them. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I am a vampire." Vincent said slowly.

"But . . ."

Vincent smiled and showed his fangs. Unlike a wolf's fangs, a vampire's fangs grew from their lateral incisors. "You don't need to fear me Harry. Remember when we first met? I swore an oath on my Blood that I'd protect you. Vampires do not make Blood Oaths lightly."

Harry paled a bit, "Are you going to turn me into a vampire?"

Vincent couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry Harry, I know you're scared of me right now, but I swore and oath to protect you. I'll never hurt you. I would never turn you either, doing so would take your magic away from you."

Harry seem to think for a moment. If what Vincent was saying were true than suddenly everything made sense. The entire time Harry had known him; he'd never met Vincent during the day. "You can't be any worse than Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia." He said finally.

"I hope that one day you'll hold me in at least a little higher regard than those people." Vincent said evenly. He was proud of Harry's cautiousness. The boy had a good head on his shoulders.

"So if you're a vampire how did you know my parent's?" Harry asked.

"I didn't, but I knew of them." Vincent said. "You see Harry, magic is a powerful tool, and in the wrong hand's it can be a terrible weapon. In the early 1970's a dark wizard rose to power. His name was Voldemort. He terrorized the wizarding world in Britain unopposed save by a few. The magical world here in Britain call this the Wizarding War. It was a terrible time. Had Voldemort succeeded He would have ruled over all the United Kingdom, both magical and muggle, but then on October 31, 1981 he vanished."

"Wait wasn't that the night my parents died?" Harry asked.

Vincent nodded, "Yes it was. You see Harry for some reason, Voldemort was targeting your family. I don't know why, but that night he found you and your parents. I'm sorry there's no easy way to say this Harry, but Voldemort killed your parents that night Harry, and he tried to kill you. Something happened though, instead of you dyeing Voldemort was destroyed instead. The whole of Magical Britain knows your name Harry. To them you're The-Boy-Who-Lived. I don't know why you were placed with your relatives and I don't know why you've been kept in the dark all these years but you were."

Harry sat in silence for a long time. Everything he thought he knew about the world had changed that night. Somehow he knew deep down that Vincent wasn't lying. All of this was real. His parents had died fighting a madman. Magic was in his blood.

"I want to learn magic." Harry said.

"There is a school. Hogwarts, it's called. You'll go there when you turn eleven." Vincent said.

"Why did you help me?" Harry asked.

"Because you needed it. I would have done the same thing for any other child in your position." Vincent answered honestly.

"Will I become a vampire?" Harry asked again.

"Only if you want to Harry, and certainly not until you much older. But tell me do you know what a dhampir is?" Vincent asked.

"No." Harry said.

Vincent smiled.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think.**


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